by H. K Oby
Rishi’s skin glowed as if someone had switched on a flashlight inside his veins. He contorted his face as if he was in agony, but that told Amin nothing as he knew what the guy’s pain tolerance level was. When his mouth opened to seemingly let out a scream, only a puff of the mist came out.
It ended in just a few seconds. Rishi moved forward, and the halo reappeared where he had been, rejoining its place in the matrix in the sky. Rishi’s shoulders were slumped as if he had run a marathon. Slowly, he floated to the ground and was dropped on the spot where he had flown up from.
Amin waited expectantly, hoping to find out just what power the coward had obtained. Whatever it was, he could already tell that it would be wasted on him, but alas, the old man gave nothing away.
Without a word being said, he suddenly found himself hovering upon the ground, too. He realized, now, why Rishi had reacted in that manner; it really did feel as if he was swimming, as if there was some invisible dense substance all around him, allowing him to rise but not letting him do so gracefully. He did manage to right himself much faster than Rishi had, though, and waited with bated breath for the first halo he was going to experience.
The moment its mist touched him, all of his senses were swept away. It was as if he had fallen asleep, suddenly, or had blacked out, unable to withstand the blow from an auntie who held her purse too tightly for him to snatch away. He was still aware of himself, but only vaguely.
It was then that he felt the presence in his mind, a presence so foreign and alien that it scared him so much he almost broke down, crying. He barely managed to remind himself of the vow he had taken when he had just been seven years old: to never give in, no matter what he was up against, and thankfully, the presence vanished after making a sound that he had heard before.
Was that…disgust? Or anger? Or a bit of both? What did I do?
Consciousness flooded back, but no sooner had it arrived fully, another halo touched him, and he was swept away again.
It went on in this manner. He lost all track of time and space. All he was aware of was that external presence, each time slightly different from the time before, and each time showing just a bit more or just a bit less disgust or anger or some other negative emotion that made him wonder whether he had stolen from those presences’ mothers.
At times, he could even swear that those presences meant harm, exerting their strength in his mind until it hurt, agony streaking through him until he wished he could scream but didn’t have the mouth to do so. At times, he vaguely understood that he was being yelled at, being told to leave in terms that would be censored in a movie.
It went on and on until finally, he stopped. It took an entire minute for him to understand that his senses weren’t going to leave again; it was only then that he understood that he stood facing the six who were each reacting differently to what had happened.
When he was done looking at all their faces, he felt as if he had been transported back to a time in his childhood when he had looked at others around him and felt his blood boil.
That guy was chosen by somebody, and I wasn’t? Why? Why do others deserve happiness, a good family, a good life? Why should I be the one to suffer? Why is god punishing me in this manner? Why can’t I have been born differently? Why did my mother…
He stopped himself from going down that road, knowing what lay at its end. Hastily scrubbing at the tears that had unknowingly filled his eyes, he looked up as the old man spoke.
“An uncommon occurrence. But it’s alright; there is one god left. He may not be able to bestow you the best of gifts, but he is the most benevolent of all the others. He never rejects anyone. The others are known to be temperamental, but each of them also offer more, so they are the first option. Oh well. You will have to work harder, but worry not. With time, it may not even matter!”
It sounded an awful lot as if the old man was trying to convince him of something that he, himself, didn’t believe, but at this point, Amin just wanted to have it over with. He had already managed to almost beat the game of life with the odds completely stacked against him; even if something similar was going to happen in this life, he would adapt.
The old man raised his hand, and the rest of the halos disappeared. In front of him, a small one appeared, one that was only as big as a fist, looking pitiful when compared to the others.
With a nonchalant shrug and an oath that he would still beat anyone who had succeeded to obtain the first choice — even though he didn’t know whether there would be anything to beat them in — Amin braced himself as he moved forward.
This time, in that mental space where he had no body, the presence that awaited him was bigger than any he had interacted with yet. For a moment, he wondered how a god that seemed much more powerful than the rest could only grant power that was lesser in some form, but knowing that he had no means to answer the question, he waited, filled with anticipation to see how it would be when he wasn’t rejected.
For quite some time, nothing happened. The vast presence simply stayed in his mind, probably observing him and maybe even unaware that he was there as he was even smaller than a thousandth of an ant in comparison.
Finally, the presence stirred. He didn’t know how, but he could tell that it was studying him.
For a moment, all was still.
Then, he was suddenly back in his body, but something was different and very, very wrong.
His vision was different, as if a yellow film had been applied over it.
The moment he understood what it was, the pain hit.
THAT BASTARD SET ME ON FIRE! WHAT THE F-
It was so intense that all thought, all feeling, all life was sucked away by the all-encompassing voice that screamed in desperation, screamed in agony to make it stop.
And somehow, all of a sudden, it did stop. The flames were gone, and his skin healed by the second. In fact, he felt as if he had been pushed into that state in which he had interacted with those presences, albeit in a slightly different way where some of his senses were present but others, such as those of touch, had been mercifully taken away.
It returned to him after he was completely healed, after his skin went back to a color he had not seen for more than a decade. The grime and tan of years had been burned away, leaving behind a pure outer shell.
Wow. Talk about a skin-lightening treatment with drawbacks. Drawback: it will make you wish you had no skin at all. Well, it seems I can’t judge people by how their skin looks anymore…
He didn’t know what had happened, but he could guess that it was unexpected. Sure enough, all six in front of him looked as if they had seen a ghost, or whatever passed for something impossible in their world.
Amin hoped that there was a third option. He was ready to settle for anything, now, as long as he didn’t walk away with nothing. Before he could say a word, though, shock changed to alarm, panic, and even fear on the faces of the six while they stared at something behind him.
Puzzled, Amin turned around, too. Those halos from before had returned, but they were flying higher into the sky now. He wondered for a moment whether he would be sent up, too, for another try, but the panicked cries from behind stopped him from asking whether that was going to happen.
“Rage! I feel their rage!”
“Run! Save yourself!”
“Kill him before anything else happens! It’s his fault!”
That last scream made him frown. It had come from the muscular man in the traditional group. He even lept forward, clearly intent on doing exactly what he had said, but before he could get very far, a loud boom of thunder made them all look up.
The halos were as high up as the clouds, now, barely visible as twinkling points, stars in a golden sky that blazed brightly. Squinting, Amin saw the lightning.
It forked in a dazzling streak, coming from each and every halo and joining together, entwining around each other, branching into bolts fatter and fatter until just one remained. More booms made his hair stand on edge, made his hear
t skip a beat each time one thudded into his ears.
In barely the span of a few seconds, the lightning was as thick as a full-grown man. It arced in the sky for one last time, collecting up a few more errant bolts before suddenly forking down.
A bluish dome appeared around both islands, soaking up the bolt until only the tiniest part of it cut through. The impact was such that the entire dome shook, and along with it, the land rumbled as if it had been hit by an earthquake.
The bolt that squeezed through grew smaller and smaller as it flew towards Amin. He stared at it even though it blinded him, wondering whether it was going to kill him, but by the time it reached his body, it had grown so small that it only gave him a tiny electric shock.
The mental shock of the sight of that large bolt that wanted to kill him was enough to send him to his knees in the air. It felt as if a platform was beneath him, thankfully, so dropping down on all fours, he panted, feeling the thrill of seeing death so closely.
Feeling eyes digging into his back, he turned around and saw the old man staring at him in disbelief.
The first thought that came to him was out of his mouth before he could stop it.
“Hey, I’m not responsible for that! Er, clearly, I’m not welcome here. Say, can I get a third option, maybe one where I can leave and go back as if nothing has happened?”
CHAPTER FOUR
THE ELDER’S GAZE didn’t even flicker, as if he hadn’t heard a word of what Amin had said. He just stared like someone who had witnessed something so impossible that they couldn’t come to terms with what had happened.
Well, get in line. My list of such things is expanding faster than I can keep up with it.
A loud siren made them all stop whatever they were doing. It reminded Amin of the one that usually sounded in a warehouse after a shift was done, but he sincerely doubted whether there was any such application here.
It went on and on, echoing from all around them from no source he could see. The six recovered in barely a few seconds, five choosing to fly up and depart in different directions as if they already knew what they were supposed to do without needing to be instructed by the elder.
The old man remained, eyes still on Amin, piercing him as pointedly as if they were swords. Still on his back, Amin didn’t even know where to look, but a second later, he was given no choice in the matter when changes began to happen in the air right above that made him stop and gawk.
From all directions, figures, some tiny, some huge were flying through the air, congregating at the exact spot where the lightning bolt had pierced through. At first, he assumed that those who looked big did so because they were closer, but when they stood beside others, he realized that they had to be at least three times the size of a normal man.
The crowd grew and grew with each passing second, almost like an army that had been marshaled. Those already gathered brandished weapons shaped in ways that he couldn’t even describe, their heads swiveling above and to the sides, searching for the threat that had just tried to force through what must have been the protective dome of the islands.
At least a thousand had gathered in just ten seconds, and the stream of those arriving was only growing. Some appeared in batches of a hundred or more, but most came by themselves. Because he was standing so high up, he was able to glean a lot of information regarding the inhabitants of these two lands, and the detail that struck him most oddly was that there were hardly any women.
Out of nowhere, a different sonorous voice boomed from the same places where the siren had come from. It washed over all of them, sending many in the congregation above to their knees in a show of respect, but what it said made Amin’s heart leap into his mouth again.
“The threat is past. Return to your dwellings or to whatever you were doing before. First elder, place the new Deathsworn in the holding cells until we reach a decision regarding what must be done.”
Holding cells didn’t sound appealing to him at all. It sounded a lot like prison, with their purpose being purposefully obscured to make it seem as if it wasn’t that bad.
His eyes narrowed, studying everything around him in a vain attempt to attempt escape. He was still being observed carefully by the elder, so he knew that nothing would be possible, but he couldn’t really stop such instincts from kicking in, especially when they were more than called for.
With a sigh that sounded as if he had expected the command, the elder turned around and flew. His manner of flight was as natural as if he was standing on an escalator, idly waiting to get to the next floor in a mall while Amin floated behind him on the platform, not needing to struggle like before. It made him suspect that whoever had flown him out before had been one of the others who must not have been as skilled in flight as the old man, but even such thoughts relating to what had abruptly become his dream didn’t deter his mind from thinking up the worst possibilities regarding what could happen next.
I did nothing! It’s not even like I tried to steal from them or something, and I’m going to be punished… If that was happening, I wouldn’t even be so angry!
They were heading in the direction of the comparatively traditional part of the two lands. Soon, they were above the forest whose edges Amin had seen from where the both of them had waited to be initiated. It didn’t occupy much space, giving way quickly to a large, barren ground where at least fifty youths stood in a neat formation wearing nothing but their underwear, practicing some sort of martial art that looked like nothing Amin had ever seen before.
They could not be more than ten years old, but they were so disciplined that their gazes did not wander from their master even when Amin passed them, clearly visible in the air. Only one or two peeked in his direction, but even then, their interest waned immediately, either out of fear or sheer self-control.
They flew over another forest, next, this one much larger in size, and as soon as they passed it, another barren ground with patted down earth appeared, this one containing rows of wooden spikes at least fifteen feet tall pounded into the ground. Each stake was as thick as the width of a man’s shoulders. Only an inch of gap had been left between each of them. They began to descend, and with alarm, Amin saw that they were headed right for one of the square spaces made by the intersecting rows.
There was nothing he could do. Even if he found the courage or stupidity to jump off, he would be impaled by the sharp ends of the stakes. If he managed to escape them, the fall would definitely break a few bones, leaving him even more helpless than he was now.
Morosely, he patted the earth below him after being set on the ground. The elder stayed in the air, floating just outside the edges of the wooden formation, hands folded in consternation while he looked down at Amin.
“Wait here. You will be summoned soon.”
Damn you!
Amin didn’t bother to conceal the outrage in his eyes. He hadn’t asked for any of this. Yes, it was good to be alive, but he had no answers and no idea of what he could even expect from the future. It felt as if he had been saved from death just to start from scratch and undergo even more torture as the world wasn’t done with him.
Letting out a breath and shaking his head, the elder said, “I’m sorry about this. This is no way to treat one of us, but circumstances are beyond what any of us can handle. It is standard procedure for those being judged or those about to be summoned by the High Council to stay here, contemplating what they might have done to attract such attention. Do not be worried. No matter how difficult it looks, we will find a way through. Farewell.”
If things hadn’t been so dire, Amin would have remarked on how the elder spoke with respect, showing the emotion so genuinely even though the one he was addressing was far beneath him. His actions reflected the kind of person he was, but at the moment, Amin was in no mood to understand that.
He was back in prison. That was the one thing that kept going round and round in his mind.
It brought back memories that usually stayed buried, both because of how embarra
ssing and how painful they were. He had been in jail six times in his life, and in all six of them, he had been treated as if he was less than a rat, less than even an ant.
He hated that. He hated having nowhere to go, hated being at the mercy of those outside, hated being unable to rely on himself to get out of a situation. Moving back, he leaned his back against one of the stakes and gathered his knees to his stomach, hugging them tightly as he fought to deny the part of him that was convinced that the seventh time would be far worse than all the rest combined.
“Wow, you’re a pitiful sight, aren’t you?”
He was so absorbed in what he was doing that he didn’t even react to the voice, first, assuming that it was just some constable outside the bars trying to get a reaction out of him. They seemed to enjoy doing that, for some reason, laughing while he tried to get away from their poking sticks or, sometimes, the burning skewers they forced through the bars.
A moment later, he slowly raised his head, noticing that the voice had been strange. Looking up, he squinted at the sun in the golden sky and saw the shape standing at the top of one of the stakes.
It made him wonder whether he had begun to hallucinate again.
Its two legs grasped the pointed end comfortably and its hands were placed on its feet. Hair bristled all over it and a long tail, longer even than how tall it was waved lazily behind it.
He blinked, half-believing that it would disappear as soon as he opened his eyes, but it was still there. Getting to his feet, he opened his mouth, intending to ask what it was, but stopped himself when he realized that that would be rude.
The figure’s back was to the sun, so he couldn’t make out any of its features, but everything he had seen already made him wonder whether it would be enough to identify what it could be. He racked his brain, and a second later, he found the answer.
I remember! It was a stupid play that I didn’t pay much attention to. I was too busy cutting pockets, but I do recall laughing at how ridiculous one of the costumes looked. Wait, the play must have been the Ramayana! Then that means that the hairy creature was Hanuman…yeah, I’ve seen a lot of statues of him! A god can’t be so jobless that he would come greet me in prison, right? In that case, they must be related… is it a species, then?